Pavisse
by Dr. Trunks Briefs
Summary: Complete. We're going to the past, Trunks and I. But, before we do, I'm writing this. This will be the history of me, Gohan. This is for my daughter, Pan, so she can understand what her daddy was like, and why. Just in case I never come back. AU.
1. Yes It's True That I Believe

**Pavisse**

**By Dr. Trunks Briefs**

**Summary: We're going to the past, Trunks and I. We're going to warn our friends about the androids. But, before we do, I am writing this. This letter is for my daughter, Pan, so she can understand what her daddy was like, and why. Just in case I never come back.**

**Rated: M**

**Author's note: You do not have to read Impasse or Finesse first to understand this story. As a matter of fact, by the time of this story's completion, it is recommended that you read this _before_ you read Impasse so you may have a better understanding of what is going on. This is the prequel to Impasse. This is the Mirai timeline. This is AU. This is before Trunks and Gohan go back in time.**

* * *

It's late; one A.M. already. She wouldn't go to sleep, Panny wouldn't. She's so afraid. She's always been afraid. Even of just closing her eyes. She's afraid I'll leave and never come back. Even as she sleeps in my lap, her head on my chest, her breathing is choppy and short. Her skin is crawling; chill bumps popping up all over. I rub her arms and her leg, trying to make them go away. I look at her right leg. It's prosthetic.

That's where all of this began. Her behavior, I mean. Her persona.

She was so young when it happened. Well, she's young now. Only six. But then, she was three. So little, so tiny, so happy. Even with the androids looming around the corner. Even with her mother splattered on the street. Even with my old school friend- her mother's husband- threatening every thread she has left to my world. My dark, bloody, greedy world. She was always just so happy.

Then the accident happened. Or, attack, rather. We were at the park. She was on the Ferris wheel with one of her little friends- Addy, I think the girl's name was. I was supposed to be watching them. I was supposed to be on that ride with them. But Trunks, he, "I can handle it. I'll ride with them. Don't worry, Big Brother, I've got it. You relax."

I don't blame Trunks. I could never blame Trunks. Not for anything, even for my daughter's leg being blown off at the thigh. I'm just grateful that he got her out of there whole (or, almost whole). Breathing. Alive. We got Pan to Bulma just in time and- God how I love that woman- she saved Pan's life. I could have stopped the bleeding. I could have, really. Did you know? I have a diploma in medicine. But, all the blood, all the screaming and crying and- Pan. It was Pan. I was so scared- I couldn't think. I loved Pan- I still do, so much- but I just couldn't think of how to save her. As I carried her through the sky- Trunks screaming something at me ("Her leg! Gohan, her leg! Oh, Kami, her leg!") I knew about her leg. I knew too well.

Bulma put that prosthetic on it. I don't know where it came from and how she knew she'd need it, but I'm glad she did. It's a miracle invention. The size and weight of a real human leg, pretty much made for my little girl. It would grow and shape up, just like her real one.

But, oh, after she woke up… she cried. She reached for me. She clung to me. "Daddy! Daddy, don't leave. Please, never leave. Don't leave me, Daddy."

She wouldn't leave my side for months- years. Even now, when she's 'all grown up,' she won't let me out of her sight. Out of her comfort zone. She's happier now, as long as I'm around. At school she's quiet, stoic. She cries and pushes other children away. She's a smart girl. Very smart. Just like her grandmother.

Oh, God, Mom.

Back to Pan. She's very intelligent. She's only in Kindergarten and she already knows how to multiply and divide (the other kids are just now learning about the letter P and learning to write. The teacher told me so). Her grandmother would be so proud. I could see it now. "Oh, Panny! Golly, you're a gift from the heavens!" is what Mom would say. If Mom were here. If I hadn't…

But as soon as the bell rings and Pan comes out and sees me (I make sure to always be there right on time so Pan won't think I'd forgotten her), she becomes a completely different child. She'll run to me and hug me and tell me all about her day and, occasionally, the writing contests she's won. I would scoop her up, hug her, tell her how proud I am of her and how much I love her, then we'd ride away on my motorcycle. Ride back to our little house in Orange Star City. A quaint little house near the other children in her class. They've noticed her personality change, too. As long as I'm outside, she'll play. As long as I'm in earshot; in eyeshot.

I guess that's just what a traumatized child acts like.

But before she got used to her new leg; after the accident… she became an infant all over again. She couldn't walk. She cried for my attention rather than asking for it. She would throw her food everywhere. She threw temper tantrums. She wouldn't try to get used to her new leg. If she wanted to go somewhere, she'd drag her body around with her arms like it was dead weight.

It was so hard to watch her. Some nights I would wake up to _clink, clink, shhh, clink, clink_. I came to recognize that as Pan trying to drag herself across the hardwood floor in my bedroom. I would feel her cling to the side of my bed and whimper. I could feel her eyes on whatever part of me she could see. If she would have just stood up, she would have been able to poke at me to wake up for whatever reason or to pull herself into the bed.

But she wouldn't. She would refuse to stand on her new leg. Bulma had promised that, after 'installing' the prosthetic, in a week's time she'd be used to it. That was four months ago. But Pan was still dragging herself around, crying, whimpering, throwing temper tantrums, demanding what she wanted.

After a while of trying to give her what she wanted (after all, she was my little girl. My hurt little girl. My crippled little girl.) I realized what I was doing. I was treating her like a cripple. It sounds terrible for me to call someone that. I was giving her what she wanted, allowing her to ignore her problem, and allowing her to act like a two year old. Trunks, "You're reminding her of what is wrong with her. It's hurting her." Me, "But she's only a three-year-old girl." Trunks, "She's _your_ three-year-old girl."

So instead of treating her like a patient, I began treating her like my child. I scolded her for things I didn't want her doing and helped her with her new leg. It worked like a charm. She did as she was told. Her tantrums pretty much disappeared over time. Like Bulma had promised, she got used to walking on her new leg in about a week. She began speaking again, calling me Daddy, calling Trunks "Tutu" (which, while in public, he hates, but he secretly enjoys it) and calling Bulma "Ma."

But, even as she got better, I couldn't help but think _Videl's husband wouldn't have let her get on that ride. He would have taken her to a more secluded, private, special theme park for her to enjoy._

That's right. Videl's husband, my old school buddy, he's a billionaire. A trillionaire. I don't know. He has a lot of money. He's also a very important man in society today. He's the King of the World. He's "his majesty." The world looks up to him in these dark ages. After the fall of order, the people elected him to become their King. After all, he was Hercule Satan's star pupil (while the macho-head was will alive, anyway. Oh, no, oh, no…). He was Videl Satan's husband.

Not that she wanted to be.

The King of the World also knew The Gold Fighter- a person who terrorized the world years ago. A person who was just as feared at the androids, even today, years after he'd disappeared. Searches were still out for him. Earth shuddered at the memories of him.

That person- The Gold Fighter- was me. The King of the World is Sharpner, my old school friend (whom, I am sure, hates me now). Pan's mother was Videl (whom I loved dearly… Sharpner and I both did).

I guess this is all very confusing. Yes, it probably is. I should explain it all. Memory by memory. Chronological order. But where should I begin? The beginning, I suppose. Where it all began. How it all started. How this life I've thrust onto my friends and family came to be. Why things are the way they are here, while the world is at an end. Hopefully, Pan will read this letter when she is old enough. Trunks, Bulma, whoever loves my little girl after I am gone…

Please, show her this letter. Let her know how her daddy was and why he was that way. Let her understand. Let her know I love her unconditionally. Let her know how hard I worked for her, for our family, for myself.

I'm Pan's pavisse, her shield, even after death. Let her know that.

Now, let us begin. From the beginning.

* * *

**To be continued.**

Aaah, the debut chapter of _Pavisse_! I hope it was enjoyable. Short, I know. The following chapters will be longer. Speaking of following chapters, they won't be posted until after Finesse is done. Hopefully these following chapters will be posted at a less random rate than its following sequels.

Make sure you review, nonetheless.

/~drtrunksbriefs


	2. I'm Weaker Than I Used To Be

**Pavisse**

* * *

"I think you should go to high school, Gohan," she said suddenly. I flinched. To be honest, I'd been thinking about it, but the possibilities of what may come as a consequence made my stomach turn. I looked over to her. She continued to drive, calmly and collectively, eyes firmly locked on the road. This conversation was familiar, but… I looked up to the night sky. Stars twinkled back at me and the crescent moon cradled its light lovingly.

But the circumstances in which it was being taken place in were much better.

"…Am I ready for that?" I asked her, quietly. She puckered her lips in thought.

"Do you think you're ready?" she replied. She did that often- answering a question with a question. I laced my fingers together in my lap. Was I ready to be around other people again? Among common humans? There was always the chance that I would be recognized as the monster- or, as they called me, 'The Gold Fighter.' I'd always turned Super Saiyan when the monster took over. The warmth of my own energy flowing through me was a comfort zone, countering the icy cold darkness that seemed to consume me when he took over.

Bulma was a brilliant woman and I looked up to her, not only for her intelligence, but also for her caring generosity. Even after what had happened in the past year, she agreed to take me in to her home. Her tiny, broken home. She and her young, only son lived in the rubble which used to be Capsule Corporation. They had scarce food and supplies, but they readily took me in as their own.

I often wonder why. Who would take a cold-blooded murderer in to their home? I bit my lip and thought back to the night it started…

____

"I think you should go to high school, Gohan," my mother said over the gallons of rain spilling onto the windshield, breaking a cold, awkward silence. I bit my lip hard, my heart jerking at the thought. I was always a shy child, and I grew into a shy teenager. However, being as shy as I was, I had a dangerous temper. "I think it would be good for you to have some friends your own age." I turned my head and gazed out the window, attempting to ignore her.

I couldn't look at her. Her wrinkled face and limp hair was a constant reminder of all the pain I'd put her through throughout the years since Father died. She reached over to take my hand, but I moved it quickly. Her hand merely brushed the sleeve of my shirt. "I'm not goin' to high school," I retorted nastily. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched her bite her lip habitually. I felt some kind of immature satisfaction. Mother hated it when I slurred my words and spoke unintelligently. She didn't want me to grow up to be some musclehead idiot who all he had going for him was strength and frightening threats.

"You can't depend on Bulma and live with her and Trunks forever, Gohan. You need an education outside of that which I taught you before… your father died." Her voice became quiet. "You'd just be a burden on them."

"I said I'm not goin' to high school," I raised my voice. Mother lowered hers.

"Stop doing that."

"Stop doin' what?"

"That," she emphasized and pointed to my lips. "You know I hate that. It's the only reason you're doing it." I pulled out my trump card.

"Dad did it." Mother's hands began trembling. "I don't live with you anymore, so I don't haf'ta to do what ya say. Stop tryin' to control me. You've been doin' it ever since I was little and I'm sick of it. I'm not goin' to high school." The rain roared on us as the sky ebbed away from twilight, slowly but surely becoming one of the darkest nights I'd ever see.

"Do you want to end up like your father?" She asked sternly. I could feel the anger radiating off her skin. "Do you want to be some unsuccessful musclehead who knows nothing about the real world and can hardly speak a word of tongue? Do you want to be unable to read or do math or measure equations? Do you want to have some… some floozy have to teach you about life, only to realize later that you had no idea what she was talking about or what she'd done to you…" I knew I'd struck a chord with my hateful rejection of an education. I watched the tears swell up in her light brown eyes and her hands grip the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white.

Neither of us noticed we'd already come into town. We were doing about eighty, brushing up on ninety, and clawing our way up to a hundred miles per hour. We flew past the forty-five miles per hour sign. Mother continued, "Do you want to have a child and have no idea how to take care of him? Do you want your wife to have to teach him, because you won't be able to? Do you want him to know he's smarter than you and use it against you because you didn't listen to your goddamned mother?! Because you wouldn't go to school?! Do you not want your son to appreciate you and your intelligence and playing a part in his life?! Don't you want him to want you around?! Don't you want him to come to you with his problems?! Don't you want to understand him?!"

I glared at her, hurt. The only thing I could think to say was, "Shut up."

Mother choked and clenched her eyes shut, leaning forward on the steering wheel. Tears broke through, pouring down like the rain blanketing the car. "Mom!" I yelled at her, pulling her back up. "Watch the fuckin' road!" She gasped and looked up. A stoplight glared red at us. Mom slammed on the brakes. The tires squealed. I leaned over and grabbed her arm as the car spun out in the middle of the intersection. I watched her shiny, bloodshot eyes become brighter and brighter, due to a white light coming from the driver's window. Things became slow motion. Mother turned her head to me, eyes wide and scared. I could almost see all the memories that were racing through her mind. Me, from tiny baby, to sweet young child, to broken teenager. Everything being taken from my childhood. By my father.

"Goh-" The oncoming semi truck cut her off. For good.

Once everything finally came to a stop, our car had been crushed like a tin can, wrapping around the truck's front end and then being burrowed into the earth. I opened my eyes and wrenched myself out of my seatbelt. Once I was free from the mess of safety protection devices, I worked on getting Mother and I out of what could hardly be called the remains of a car. I could hear sirens blaring off in the distance. I shifted my position, Mother in one arm, and I pulled the lock on the driver's door, seeing as mine was plowed into the ground. I kicked it open, not bothering to pull the door handle. It flew open, grossly distorted from the impact.

I could only think of one thing. Mother, Mother, Mother. Even as I pulled her limp body from the wreckage and carried her on foot to Capsule Corporation, I knew what had happened. My mother had just died.

That night, while Bulma made plans for Mother's funeral, I left. My mind was mush. I felt cold to the touch. I felt dead and numb inside. I felt someone else take over my body. He made me jump out the window and take off, far away. He made me say goodbye to Trunks, Bulma's son, without a single word. The next time Trunks would see me- or, what was recognized as my face- would be on television the next morning: a murderer, picking off the extremities in cold blood. Anyone who was too rich, too poor, too old, too evil, too good, too beautiful, too ugly… they were destroyed. By what was essentially me. By what I called "The Monster."

The Monster was the name I gave myself whenever I was consumed by the uncontrollable mania or depression that would periodically take over my mind. Myself as I knew me would become completely detached from my body, leaving it to be controlled by an angry alter-ego who sought equality in the most disturbing of ways. Believing that this monster was someone else helped me cope with the emotions and deny the fact that it was actually me committing these disgusting murders and torturing these innocent people.

____

I bit my lip and looked over to Bulma. The woman was silent, eyes still locked firmly on the road, speed steady and obeying the limit. She waited patiently for my reaction to the former suggestion. I fingered the back of my skull, brushing over the barely noticeable lump there. It was a defibrillator of sorts, made by the blue-haired genius to control my moods and tame the Monster. It had been a month since I'd come back to Capsule Corporation, ending my year-long serial killing spree.

I leaned my head on the car window and looked up into the night sky. I picked out the big dipper, Orion, and countless other constellations my mother had taught me as a child. My heart thumped painfully. My mother… I looked back up to Bulma.

"I think I'm ready."

* * *

**To be continued.**

I wonder if anyone can guess the theme song to this 'sse installation (as in, the titles of each chapter)? Whoever gets it right gets a cookie. An iced oatmeal cookie that cost a dollar and twenty-nine cents at the dollar store…

Yummm.

Review, please.

~/drtrunksbriefs


	3. I Wear My Heart Out On My Sleeve

**Pavisse**

* * *

"Come on!" Trunks shouted and eagerly yanked on my wrist, pulling me through the hallways of Orange Star High School. "You're late already! You missed first period!"

"Trunks, I don't think you need to be here in the first place. Don't you have to go to class, too?" Trunks stopped and twiddled his thumbs. "Plus, your school is all the way down the street. How often do you skip, anyway?"

"Not that often... I just want to make sure you're okay." He turned to me suddenly, a determined look in those soft eyes. "I want to be here to help you if you need me."

I smiled and bent down on one knee to reach his height. He took a step closer. "Trunks, thank you for worrying about me, but I'll be just fine. Your school is only down the street, and you know how to get here if you feel anything." I held his face and spoke gently to him, as always, "Don't stop your life for the sake of mine. Ever. Promise?"

He knitted his eyebrows together and stared me down, worry seeping out of every seam and crease line. He pulled my class schedule out of his back pocket and hesitated, as if he were about to make a huge decision. Slowly, he pushed it into my palm. "Don't get into trouble..." he warned. "I'll be on high alert, so if you need me right away, just spike your energy..." I grinned and pulled him into a bear hug. He hugged back, somewhat timid. I ground my knuckles against his head playfully, messing up his perfect purple hair and making him giggle.

"Get to class, Squirt. Get educated." He laughed and pulled away. His eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer.

"I love you, Big Brother!" he admitted shyly before twisting out of my arms and running down the hallway and out of my sight. I smiled and stood up slowly. What a good kid; smart, sweet, obedient, kind, caring, generous... I laughed at the thought of him growing up to be anything less than successful and happy. As I walked down the halls and toward the gym for my second period class, which was already half-over, I wondered if I was once the same in my father's eyes as Trunks is in mine.

Upon entering the gym, I noticed everyone staring at me. "Uh, hello..." I mumbled, trying not to make eye contact with any of the students. I suddenly felt more nervous and self-conscious than I ever had before.

"Hello," said a tall, dark-skinned man. The whistle around his neck gave away the hint that he was the coach. "You must be Gohan Son." I nodded once, quickly. A bright, warm smile pulled at his mouth. "Well, Gohan, you're just in time to have a quickie in the world of martial arts. Do you fight much, Gohan?"

"With my little brother, I do." The students around the couch snickered. The coach gave a hearty laugh.

"I mean Tournament fighting, son. Go on, change into the gym clothes. They'll be in your own personal locker in the locker rooms over there." He pointed to an orange door nearby. After changing into the clashing orange, green, and red attire, I returned to the hoard of students. I tried to stay out of the way, but curiosity got the best of me. Everyone was circled around something, and I had a feeling that something was not going to shine any more light on my day.

"Lift your arm! Good, now strike!" a female voice shouted over the crowd of students' cheering. "Now spin and swipe with your right leg! Almost..." I knew that voice. Why did it seem so familiar? I pressed through the crowd, nearly making it to the front when someone grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back into the depths. Irritated, I gave a sharp glare to the blonde boy over my shoulder. His eyes widened with surprise, but otherwise, he ignored it.

"Hey, Son, you can't just barge your way to the front. Wait your turn. Videl will get to everyone eventually." Videl? The boy pulled me next to him. "But since you want to see her so badly, you can go after me." I gave the guy an incredulous look. He grinned. "Don't worry, not _everyone_ is fighting, only some. I'm next, and then you. Hold your horses."

I didn't even know who this guy was and I hated him.

"By the way, I'm Sharpner."

Prick.

"Your name _is_ Son, right?"

"Yeah, sure."

"So that means you're Goku Son's kid, aren't you? Man, you look just like him. What's he like?"

I glared at Sharpner. "As of right now? Dead."

Sharpner's mood took a one-eighty. "Oh... I'm sorry to hear that, man. Hey, I know what it feels like. My dad's dead too." I suddenly felt like punching him in the face. I never felt like that before, not even to the Android monsters, #17 and #18, that plagued the planet. "But Dad was a great guy, so I know he went so someplace just as great as he was." I sighed and tried to tune him out. "By the way, Son, how do you get your hair to stick up like that?"

Feeling very ungrateful, I cut my eyes at him, "I stick a fork in a light socket every morning."

"Okay, who's next?" The female voice- Videl's, I'm sure- called over the crowd.

"Oh, me, baby! Over here!"

"Oh shut up, Sharpner." Sharpner grinned from ear to ear and pushed his way through the crowd. Not caring if I hurt anyone, I followed his lead, shoving my way up to the front as I did before. "Now get into a stance..." I heard her say. Finally, I was able to get ahead. Once I saw her, my heart stopped cold.

It was _her_. I would never forget that face; those eyes. No matter how out of control I was at the time we'd first met, I was still all too conscious. All too aware. I shook my head and quickened my breathing. _No_. She held her mouth in a tight frown and fought the guy from before with no mercy, instructing him from time to time to teach him the ways of defense and offense. Her icy blue eyes were numb and her face was still, not even going to anger or, much less, happiness.

I could still feel her fingernails digging into my back, across my scars, and down my arms. I could see the tears glistening in her eyes under the moonlight and hear her weary voice as she begged the Monster to stop. She pleaded with him. She promised everything under the sun if he'd just stop... stop...

As Videl's match ended with Sharpner, I turned away. "Who's next?" she called.

"Oh, that would be So-" I don't know if they wondered where I went. By the time Sharpner had gotten my name out, I was gone.

I didn't see any of them again for the rest of the school day. It dragged on, but I felt no regret missing the information that teacher upon teacher tried to drill into my head, even though the same exact information had been taught in a much more loving manner by my own mother years before. Before I knew it, the final bell rang, dismissing the students from their lectures.

I dropped my books into my bag and shut my locker, only to come face-to-face with the last person I ever wanted to see again.

"You," Videl glared at me hotly. I felt my breath quicken, so I turned on my heel and high-tailed it out of there. In the distance, I could hear her green boots hitting the ground after me and her chilling voice yelling out. Before long, though, I'd lost her.

Only to plow into someone else that I never wanted to see again.

"Oof, ouch..." Sharpner moaned and rubbed his head. He pushed me off and I, ungracefully, landed on my back on the school's red tile. "Watch it, you dick," he mumbled angrily. He glanced over to me and, once he got a good look at me, his mood softened. "Oh, hey, Son. You can really pack a punch there, you know?" He leaned on the floor with his elbow and looked at the books and papers that I'd knocked out of his arms. "You okay? You were running pretty fast, like you'd seen a ghost."

"I kinda did," I moaned and sat up, rubbing my face. He laughed once, softly.

"What happened to you in Gym? I thought you wanted to give it a shot in the ring with the toughest woman in the world?" I sighed and shook my head. I knew that was coming. Sharpner raised a blonde eyebrow at me. "Don't tell me... you have a crush on her? Hey, that's cool, but just keep your distance, okay? She's mine." I laughed once, softly.

"I'm trying to keep as much distance as possible."

"Gohan!" a familiar voice, young and pure, cried out behind me. Sharpner and I turned around, still lazing about on the floor. "Are you okay?" Trunks asked frantically and ran up to me. "I came to pick you up, but you weren't outside yet, and I felt your energy..." he trailed off as he began to notice that there was a human in the room. "Oh... is this a new friend, Gohan?" He looked Sharpner up and down, curious.

"I wouldn't call him that-"

"Sure am," Sharpner cut me off and shook Trunks's tiny, tanned hand. "Name's Sharpner. Who're you?"

"I'm Trunks; Gohan's brother. Nice to meet you." There he was: Little Trunks, Polite Vegeta/Bulma Offspring Extraordinaire.

"Nice to meet you, too. So, you have to pick your older brother up from school? I don't mean to be rude, but... shouldn't it be the other way around?" Sharpner grinned and tilted his head. Trunks smiled as well.

I stood up and picked up my books and papers and shoved them into my bag. "Let's go home, Trunks," I offered gently. Sharpner hopped up onto his feet and helped me pick up the papers. He handed them to me in a very pleasant manner. We met eyes. "...'Bye."

Sharpner grinned again. "See you tomorrow."

As Trunks and I walked out the front doors and back into the afternoon sun, he reached up and gripped my fingers. Softly, he asked, "Why were you on the ground?"

I hesitated. "...I was running from an unstoppable force, only to run into an immovable object."

* * *

**To be continued...  
**

**Beef jerky is good. Mmmm.**

**/~drtrunksbriefs**


	4. And I Forget The Rest Of Me

Pavisse

xx

Trunks managed to drop me off at the school's front door on my second day. It wasn't easy for him; I had to do a lot of convincing to make him even let me off there. He'd originally wanted to walk me to my first period class. I could tell he was less alert today than he was yesterday. I figured he must have felt a little more comfortable with me being only a short fly away. It warmed my heart to know that he was so worried about me (or, rather, the people around me). But really, there was no reason for him to worry.

As fate would have it, my first period classmates included Sharpner, Videl, and a bubbly blonde girl named Erasa. With an 'E,' she'd emphasized. "Nice jacket," she commented, scooting her chair a little closer to mine. She ran her finger down the black fabric and admired the unique collar and button design. "I've never seen one like this before."

"Thank you," I answered her. I was unusually cold that morning (and late), so I'd simply thrown on a school spirit tee shirt (otherwise known as a blazingly bright orange shirt with the letters O-S-H on the back; pure mutiny to fashion). After Bulma and Trunks yelled at me for such an unacceptable outfit, I put on the jacket Mother made for me to hide it. "It's my favorite."

She leaned on one of her hands and batted her eyelashes at me fondly. "Erasa, down girl," Videl said from her other side. I took in a deep breath and turned away.

"Oh, this is Videl Satan! She's the daughter of The One and Only!" Erasa grinned enthusiastically. Videl crossed her arms and shook her head. I decided to play dumb.

"Uh, who?" Erasa's mouth dropped open. Videl looked at me curiously. I looked away.

A boy in the row in front of us turned around, not bothering to hide his awe. "You seriously don't know?"

I shook my head. Erasa slammed her fists down on the desk, gaining a glare from the Foreign Language teacher. "Hercule! The World Martial Arts CHAMPION."

I cocked an eyebrow and leaned on one hand on the desk. "Oh, I didn't know."

From the other side of Videl, Sharpner leaned forward with an incredulous look on his face. "What kind of sheltered life do you live?"

Videl rolled her eyes and glared at him. "Oh shut up, Sharpner. I'm actually glad that there's at least one person who doesn't know me for my dad." A smile graced her lips for half a second, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. She looked me in the eyes, but I couldn't stand it. I looked back down at the desk. The teacher cleared her throat, annoyed. Erasa shrunk back in her seat and smiled at me.

"So you're like, really smart, right? I bet if you and Viddy here got together and had a kid, she'd be the smartest AND strongest person in the whole world! I bet she could even kill the Androids..."

"And the Gold Fighter..." Videl mumbled and leaned forward on her elbows. I bit my lip.

"What, Erasa? No way! Videl is _my _girl." Sharpner smiled at Videl fondly, only to receive a sharp elbow in the shoulder, courtesy of the quiet, raven-haired girl.

I sighed and shook my head. This was going to be a long period.

When the period finally came to an end, we retreated into the crowded hallways. A cold chill ran down my spine. Something bad was about to happen. Something very, very bad.

The sound of firecrackers went off in the hallway, sending students in all directions, screaming and crying and covering their heads. I felt Sharpner grab my arm and pull me in the other direction, along with Videl and Erasa. Why were we running? It was just firecrackers. A line of holes impaled the lockers over our heads. Okay, that was definitely not firecrackers."They have guns! They have guns!" I looked over my shoulder, desperately searching for the terrorist. "Let me go, Sharpner!" Videl screamed. Sharpner glared at her and held her close, protective. I ripped my arm away from him, catching him off guard. He looked at me, shocked, frozen in his tracks. Videl squirmed away and ran into the retreating masses like a fish swimming upriver. Sharpner and I stared each other down for a minute. His brown eyes were filled with fright, but not for his own safety.

For his friends'.

I smiled at him and disappeared into the crowd.

I had to help Videl. I recalled Erasa mentioning she was the "savior of the city" or something like that. It meant she knew how to fight. However, she was only human, and she could only take a bullet once. I stopped suddenly. _Wait_. She can't see me fight. This school was my only link to a normal life. I chewed on my lip and ran into an empty classroom. Without thinking twice, I removed my jacket and powered up to a Super Saiyan. I instantly felt my heart begin to race and my vision blur; the effects of a long year of using this form to murder and terrorize the planet. I took a deep breath to calm my heart, desperately trying to tune in to the defibrillator implanted into the back of my skull.

I exploded out of the classroom and flew across the floor, giving the students nearby something new to scream about. I homed in on Videl's energy, knowing she be where the gunmen were. In no time I was there, and without a minute to lose. I stopped with ease in front of her and gave the gunman a swift kick in the jaw. Another gunman held up his weapon shakily, hardly able to hold on to it for the fear. "Th-th-the G-Gold Figh-Fight-Fighter-r!!" he shrieked and fired the gun. I caught each bullet effortlessly and held them back out to him, only to drop them on the floor. The gunman screamed again, turning on his heel and taking off for the door. I couldn't help the smirk that crept on to my face.

I outstretched my arm lazily, letting him get away, just a little bit. After he'd gotten almost all the way down the hallway, I sent a gentle blast his way. It slammed him against the wall, an instant K.O. I took in a deep breath, noticing how quiet the school was. I turned around to Videl and, to my surprise, found Trunks cradling her on the floor. He looked up to me from her frightened blue eyes, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was drowned out by a blood-curdling scream from Videl, since she'd gotten over her shock. Trunks held her head to his chest, but didn't take his eyes off me.

The look he was giving me pulled at my heartstrings painfully. He looked as if he were trying to decide if he should kill me or let me go, like an owner would to his dog. "Y-You... you bastard! You f-fucking bast-stard!" Videl pulled away from Trunks and reeled her arm back, hand balled up in a fist. "I'll fucking _kill_ you!" Before the hit landed, I disappeared from her sight and retreated back to the classroom where I'd left my jacket.

Trunks was right on my heels, not letting me out of his sight. I powered down and slipped back into my jacket. "I didn't do it for the sake of hurting someone, if that's what you're thinking," I mumbled, not able to make eye contact. Trunks gave me no choice. He floated before me and held my face, forcing me to look into those comforting blue eyes.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking," he answered in a low voice; too serious for a child his age. I sighed and turned away. He allowed me this.

"I did it to protect Videl." Trunks was quiet. He landed on the floor softly. I continued, "But... when I transformed, I found that it was harder to control myself than when I am not."

Trunks bit his lip and stared me down. "I think I'll hang around until the end of the school day. When we get home, I'll ask Mom to look at you... She should know if she needs to up the ante on your defibrillator, or if I don't have to worry. Or maybe she'll kick your ass."

We smiled at each other. "Go to class, Big Brother," he ordered.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

When I returned to the hallway where the gunmen were, Videl was still there, sitting on the floor, rocking back and forth with her knees drawn up to her chest. I could feel Trunks nearby, carefully staying out of the sight of upperclassmen and teachers. "Videl!" I shouted, trying to sound concerned. I knelt by her and placed a hand on her shoulder. She jumped and looked at me, blue eyes wide with terror and tears.

"Wh-wha? You-you're Go-Go-G..."

"Gohan," I finished for her and leaned forward, still unable to look into her eyes. "Are you alright?"

A tremor ran up her spine, but she nodded. "I'm fine," she stuttered.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," I mentioned.

"I... I have." I resisted a smile. I'd said the same thing to Sharpner the day before.

Together, we walked outside to the school's courtyard. We sat under a tree on the edge of the yard so no one would be able to see us. I could sense Trunks sitting on one of the branches, shrouded by the leaves and up high, but not out of earshot or sight.

"You shouldn't see me this way," she mumbled. I sat next to her, uncomfortable and unsure of what to do next.

"Don't worry. Something must have frightened you pretty hard to make you this way. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Besides, you seem like a pretty brave girl, so whatever it was, I'm sure I would have wet my pants and fainted." This earned a soft laugh from her. Her hands eased their trembling and her breathing became more even.

"It was... horrible... but... I don't want to bother you with it."

"I have all day."

She looked up at me and smiled softly. "Really, I... I've never told anyone... I wouldn't know where to begin."

"At the beginning." Did I really want to hear this? Something compelled me to listen.

She took a deep breath. "It was... the Gold Fighter... around this time last year. He..." she clenched her eyes shut; a vain attempt at keeping the tears out. I held out my hand. She took it immediately and took a deep breath. "He... killed my father right in front of me... after he raped me." I bit my lip and let out a sigh that I didn't know I was holding. Oh, yes, Videl. I knew this all too well. I closed my eyes and remembered back to the moonless night to where The Monster stole both Videl's and my own virginity away. "No matter how much I screamed... begged... promised... he wouldn't stop. He was too strong for me to fight off... his hands burned... his... everything... burned. Dad couldn't get near him, or else he'd just get blown away. That monster... he's so..." Gently, nervously, I wiped her tears away. "He's so... cruel..."

"I...I know." She looked up at me, but I still didn't meet her eyes. "I know... how cruel he can be." She shook her head.

"Oh, Gohan, not you, too. He didn't... he didn't..." I felt distant, lost in the night of our shame. She turned into me and sobbed on my jacket, pouring out all the fear to the last person she would want to. If only she knew. I shamelessly held her, allowing myself this sinful, undeserved comfort. I felt myself being a victim of his cruelty as well, trying to convince myself that The Monster was, in fact, not really me. Reality was only a memory away. "Gohan... he was wearing an Orange Star High shirt. I saw it. He goes to this school, Gohan. He's here, Gohan!" she exclaimed, somewhat frantic. She looked up at me, making complete eye contact for the first time. I felt my heart catch in my throat.

Her eyes were incredible. Big blue orbs hiding beneath thick, long, black lashes. Silver sparkles embedded deep in her irises highlighted their intensity, further sending my heart deeper into my throat. I swallowed it back down. "So am I." I could hear her pulse thundering in her chest. She brushed her lips against mine so gently that I barely felt it. We pressed our lips together, locked in a moment of passion. Up high in the branches, Trunks left, giving us the privacy we needed. Our moment of passion turned into much, much more.

I didn't see Trunks again until that night when I got home. As soon as I walked in to the kitchen, his nose wrinkled and he looked at me. Bulma smiled and said hello, asking about my day and treating me as she usually does when I get home from somewhere. I looked back at Trunks, whose nose was still wrinkled. His eyebrows knitted together. Could he smell the sex? He didn't question to why I smelled so strange. He didn't say a word. For this, I appreciated his nature.

As soon as Bulma let me go, I went outside and burned my school spirit shirt.

xx

**To be continued...**

Sexxin'.

/~drtrunksbriefs


	5. Yes, There's Times I've Been Afraid

Pavisse

xx

Earth never ceased to amaze me. Despite what disgusting, twisted deed I was bound to do next, it continued to spin on its axis, passing day by day. Before I'd known it, months had gone by. My relationship with Sharpner grew as time went on. How, you ask?

It was a cold day in Orange Star City, thanks to the fact that we were drawing ever closer to the holidays. Sharpner had been attending every day of school thus far and, admittedly, it worried me when he hadn't shown up for class. Something unsettled twisted in my gut, and it wasn't the increasing lust relationship I secretly kept with Videl. Feeling sick, I raised my hand and asked to leave the classroom. The teacher nodded her head and continued on with her lesson, undisturbed by the blanket of clouds looming over the school. What did it mean?

I was making my way to the bathrooms when I saw it- or, heard it, rather. Sharpner and a small blonde woman were standing in the hallway, arguing. Well, the woman was arguing with him. He was merely defending himself. I hid around the corner, feeling shamelessly curious. She yelled and screamed and raised Cain at him for reasons I couldn't understand. What could Sharpner have done to her?

"Don't talk to my sons!" she yelled, her shrill voice bouncing off the empty hallways. "Don't talk to my family! You're worthless! You'll never amount to anything, and I don't want your grimy, filthy personality to rub off on them and _taint_ them!"

"M-Mother…" Sharpner tried, but he was merely answered with a sharp slap in the face. I heard the disgusting hock of her saliva and her heels tapping on the tile floor, leaving… farther… farther… and gone. After a moment of silence, I leaned back around the corner to peek at the remaining scene. Sharpner stood in the middle of the spacey hallway alone. Tears built up behind his eyes and anguish pressed against his chest. The atmosphere was so thick I could taste it.

My instincts took over and I instantly grabbed him by the arm and dragged him outside. As soon as the humid air hit our skin, Sharpner fell to pieces. I let him cry it out on me, for once feeling like a friend rather than someone he bothered for attention.

Sharpner was abused as a child. No, he wasn't abused… he was tortured. He was a plaything to his cruel mother, taking her anger and frustration out on him. Her son.

Since he was merely a youngster she tormented him. He slept in the basement, took baths of ice, ate scraps off the floor like a dog, and spent hours upon hours sitting on the rocks outside or doing cruel chores in the freezing cold. He was starved of not only food, but also any and all types of love while his four little brothers kept their distance. Sometimes his mother forced him to do disgusting deeds or swallow repulsive things, such as his own vomit or cleaning materials from under the sink. Just because she wanted him to.

I held him and listened to his story of agony. He was finally saved at the tender age of twelve and placed in foster home after foster home, but by then, it was too late. He was too far gone, too immune to the disease called love. His foster parents did everything they could to help, but their efforts were in vain. He felt alone; completely and totally alone. He became self-centered; repulsed by the world and all of its inhabitants. That is, until he met Videl.

"She was the only thing that kept me going," Sharpner mumbled, arms wrapped around himself and blonde hair covering his eyes. "She was the only other person who had walked a similar road of life as me. She lost both of her parents and was completely alone as well. I felt this… connection to her…" he reached out and grasped at the air, as if she were there. After a moment of silence, he sighed and looked at me. "I-I'm sorry. I know that you probably don't understand."

I gave a short, choppy laugh. "You have… no clue as to what I understand and what I don't." He held my gaze, as if studying me. "I know what it's like to feel… alone." I curled my hands into fists and knitted my eyebrows together, trying not to think of it.

"What… happened?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Only… if you promise not to tell."

He gave me a reassuring smile, "…I promise."

Hesitantly, I told him. I told him of being kidnapped by my uncle and kidnapped again to train for the battle for Earth. I didn't hold back any details. I told him my father was an alien from outer space. I told him my race could transform at the full moon. I told him about traveling to Namek, about losing my father more times than once and then finally losing him again… for good. I told him about losing control over myself. About leaving my mother to fend for herself. About growing up on my own in the streets- not under Bulma's care like I'd let my mother think. I told him about her death and how it affected me…

I told him I was "The Gold Fighter".

When I finished, my hands were shaking. I kept my eyes nailed to the ground, not daring to look at his face. He could have left by now for all I knew. I swallowed hard and decided to go for it. What was he thinking? I looked up.

He was still there. He was watching me cautiously, as if he were to make the slightest move, I'd take off. A wind of silence blew between us.

"…Prove it." I blinked. All he wanted was… proof? He didn't want to run? To scream? To hurt me? I couldn't help the grin that came over me. I grabbed him by the arm and slung him on to my back. Shocked at my sudden movement, he grasped desperately at me. I lifted off the ground and took off into the air.

We became instant best friends. Just add water.

Until, of course, Sharpner found out what I did to 'his' Videl.

I've never regretted anything more.

It was the last week of school and, being a Senior, I couldn't help but be excited. Graduation, college, finally being over my fear of Videl… I looked forward to her warm smile and gentle voice later that day. But… something felt amiss.

I could see him coming from a distance. Something in my mind told me to run, but my legs weren't listening. I stayed rooted to the floor; stopped in the middle of the crowded hallway. The only time I moved was when Sharpner knocked me off my feet. I fell to the floor with a thud and watched him from there as he spat curses at me and rubbed his fist from where he hurt himself when trying to hurt me.

"How could you?!" he shouted. Teenagers crowded around us. "How could you do that to her?! To me?! I thought we were friends, Gohan! I thought you…" he wrinkled his nose in disgust. "How could you… have sex with _my_ Videl?! You… you know that… you _know_ that I'm in love with her! _You know that!_ Yet, you go behind my back and… and… _fuck_ her?! You know she's mine! You _know_ it!"

Whispers broke through the crowd. I felt hurt and ashamed that the past had finally caught up with me. I attempted to defend myself. "She's not an object, Sharpner! You can't talk about her like she's a material thing. You can't claim her! She's a _person_!" I stood up, only to be punched again by my best friend. His blows didn't hurt; they were only more shocking than painful. I'd never seen him so angry before- especially not at me. I caught his next swing and held him down. He continued to curse and call names, accusing me of everything under the sun until the school cops showed up and pulled us off of each other.

Neither of us got to walk at our graduation. Our diplomas were mailed to us eventually.

Sharpner kept his distance from me- and I mean serious distance. A restraining order was involved. I was able to enter college, alone, and work on earning my career as a doctor. An orthopedist, at that. I knew it would make my mother happy, and I could picture her excitement the day I was handed that final diploma…

Bulma insisted on supporting me for as far as I wanted to go. She told me not to feel as if I were intruding, because I would be able to repay her by taking care of her in her old age. In honest fun, I would call her playful names like "old bat." She would always grin and slap my arm and call me "a young whipper-snapper."

Trunks grew up quickly and grew up tall. Before I knew it, he was beating girls away with a bat and trying to sneak out through the window in order to go to this party or that. Or, more often, to my cozy little on-campus apartment in Pepper City.

I grew away from Videl, but thanks to the occasional email from Erasa (with an E!) I was kept up-to-date with her and Sharpner's lives.

She was the head of the military, leading the world to a brighter future, despite the reign of the Androids. Sharpner made his way up the rankings in Law school and, with Videl's help, planned a brighter future for Earth as well. He harnessed law and order over the terror-stricken planet once more and, as dubbed by the biggest news station on television, became "The King of the World."

They were the hot couple of the day- talked about on every news station known to humankind. Their life stories became book stories and flew off the shelves as soon as they hit them. I even bought one, read it, and hid it with all my other precious Earthly possessions.

Sharpner and Videl were the two most popular human beings on the planet. Everything was perfect. Everything was peachy-keen.

That is, until I got a phone call from the Queen of the World herself one day. All of our lives took a one-eighty.

xx

**To be continued…**

Hope this update satisfies everyone!

Please review.

/~drtrunksbriefs


	6. And There's No Harm In That, I Pray

Pavisse

Xx

I found myself flying to the coffee shop that day. I skipped class, knowing that the teacher wouldn't miss me, and I wouldn't be missing anything important. All that was on my mind was her. I hadn't seen Videl in years, save for being behind the camera, spending every waking moment she had with Sharpner. The thought made something twinge in my heart, but it was quickly covered up with the thought of her wanting to see me again.

She said she had something very important she needed to talk about.

I entered the coffee shop in Orange Star City in record time. It was my favorite as a teenager- it was a place the gang and I would go to almost every afternoon to hang out without the surroundings of the school. The owners and employees became to expect us every day. I don't think anyone told them why we stopped coming so suddenly.

I ordered the usual, not sure if the man behind the counter recognized me. He eyed me curiously as he poured my coffee, visibly noting the nice black jacket I'd had since high school and the motorcycle I'd recently gotten for my twentieth birthday, thanks to Bulma. The clerk gave me a knowing smile and handed me my coffee and Danish cake, but didn't speak a word. I smiled back and dropped the exact change on the counter before heading to the usual spot by the big window. For once, I closed my eyes and remembered back to the good old days when my friends would all crowd around this tiny table meant for two and chatter and giggle. It was one of the only times where I'd see Videl smile.

"Gohan?" Speak of the devil. I opened my eyes and glanced over to her.

She was as beautiful as ever. Clean, smooth ivory skin, big blue eyes, and feathery black hair. She'd cut it, I noticed. Despite its length, however, it still looked as soft and touchable as it always had. I smiled. "Hi, Videl." That sweet smile crossed her features. It warmed my heart to see it again. Smiling back, I motioned for her to sit in her normal seat in front of me. She obliged and gracefully pulled the chair back and lowered herself onto it. She cradled her coffee gently and placed her Danish cake by mine.

My heart hurt from the memories.

We didn't say anything for a while. Because of this, a thick tension built up between us. I was curious as to what she had to tell me, but I kept my mouth stuffed with Danish cake after Danish cake (enjoying hers, too. She didn't seem to mind.)

She dropped her cup, breaking the tension. "Oh, I'm so clumsy…" she scolded herself and attempted to wipe up the mess. I placed my hands over hers, feeling ecstasy bolt up my arms like lightning. She looked up at me, as if surprised I'd touched her. Giving her a steady stare, I gently asked her what'd gotten her so tense. A simple spill wouldn't have done such a thing to a strong-willed woman like her.

I could feel it coming. I watched her shatter like glass and crumple onto the table. I swiftly got up and led her outside by the hand, ignoring the stares from the other customers and employees. I hugged her and cradled her, happy that there were so few people on the streets. Since Sharpner was so hot at me, he surely didn't want to hear from the media that I was with "his" girl.

Escorting her back to my apartment, I felt my heart race. The tears had stopped rolling down her cheeks, but it was replaced by deep, concentrated silence. As we walked up the stairs of my building, I stroked her hand, hoping to shed some sort of comfort on her.

I left her to sit on the couch, gently telling her to relax. I placed a cup of water in her hands and sat in the chair across from her, cautiously keeping my distance.

"He's making me marry him," Videl whispered, rubbing her thumb across the glass. Drops of water slipped down the sides, landing in her lap. "He says it's the only way to make our _Heal the World_ project, but," her hands shook, throwing droplets of water onto the floor. I quietly got up from my seat and placed my hands over hers, calming her. I sat next to her.

She turned her head and met my eyes. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of those painful blues. The same sickness from years before returned, making my stomach do flip-flops in the pit of my gut. Why did she trust me? "I don't love him, Gohan," said a torn Videl. I couldn't pull my eyes away. I couldn't move- couldn't resist. Videl had no clue of the power she held over the person who once plagued her nightmares. She pressed her forehead against my cheek, mumbling softly, "Because I'm in love with you."

Did I love Videl? Was I in love with her? Well, whenever I saw her, my mind went blank. I wouldn't be able to think or understand anything else that went on around me. Our conversations came with ease, and our attraction was more of a gravitational pull. If she wasn't "the one," then who was? Who else kept drawing me near, no matter how far I became? Who else could take my breath away with a glance, make me lovesick with a "hello," and give me a heart attack with a touch?

I pondered these questions as she and I became lovers once again. I had heart attacks all night long.

Did I love Videl?

She was so beautiful, so perfect, under the moonlight and in complete bliss and comfort under my blanket. I brushed the hair out of her face and stroked her cheek, enjoying the warmth of her flesh under mine. My heart raced, even at the slightest movement.

I held her close, kissed her forehead, and drew invisible circles on her back- things I could never do when we'd make love in high school.

I closed my eyes and laid my head down next to hers. Almost silently, I came to a conclusion, "I love you, too."

The next morning, she was gone, leaving nothing but a little note scribbled on the back of an old photo from high school, when she and I were still allowed to see each other, even though it still had to be in secret. I held my head and dropped the photo on the floor, where it just so happened to land photo-side up. I felt the tears fall from my cheeks and splatter on the lamination. It was the two of us, sharing a tender kiss, and enjoying every frozen minute of it.

"_I love you, Gohan. _

_Love, Videl"_

**To be continued…**

Xx

Review, please C:

/~drtrunksbriefs


	7. Cause I'm More Frightened Every Day

Pavisse

Xx

It was snowing in Orange Star when I saw it. We, the people of the city, stood in the streets and watched with a proud glow as my love and my best friend wed themselves together. I propped my leg on the ground to hold myself and my motorcycle up, unable to weave through the heavy traffic. Everyone and their mother had their eyes peering out of their warm cars and at the large television screen mounted on the biggest building on Main Street. The city looked on with an intense silence as the preacher asked Videl the most important question of her life.

"Do you, Videl Satan, take Sharpner Pencil as your lawfully wedded husband? Do you promise to love, care, and be with him for as long as you both shall live?"

Videl visibly hesitated, taking the words into deep account. She looked from her s and Sharpner's linked fingers to her soon-to-be husband's eyes. She turned to the camera, nervously looking out into the distance. Through all t he snow, ice, and distance between us, my heart warmed.

"I know," I whispered softly. "Do what you need to do to save us. I love you… So much."

Videl looked back up to my school friend. "I do."

Everyone was glowing but me.

I didn't look at another television, listen to another radio, or read another newspaper for months after that. The world seemed so dark; so uninviting. I dropped out of school and worked under Bulma with a fake medical license that could fool even the most worthy court. I worked with a little bit of everything: from adults to children; from hiccoughs to cancer. Bulma and the patients seemed to trust my word enough, and Trunks seemed more than happy to have me around again.

The next time I saw Videl was in our old coffee shop. It was beginning to get warmer, so much to the point where I didn't need my comfortable black jacket anymore. She startled me out of my fond memories of our high school career with a soft hand. I was amazed to see her. Not just because I was happy to see her again, no.

She'd grown twice her size. Not up, but out. I couldn't help but stare. Giving me a weak smile, she placed a loving hand over her enlarged tummy. "It's been a while, Gohan," she said. I nodded in agreement. Yes, it certainly had. "It's a girl," she mumbled after settling herself into the chair across from me. I took a sip of my coffee and stared into her eyes, unable to feel betrayed.

Videl wringed her fingers and looked out into the bustling street. This section of town had grown a lot busier since the last time we'd met. "So how has life been?"

"Slow." My answer was sharp and quick.

"And Trunks? Is he doing well?"

"His hair is still purple."

"Have you been studying?"

"I dropped out." Keeping my heartbroken eyes glued to hers accusingly, I sipped my coffee once more. She looked at me, shocked. However, I could see the well-hidden joy that sparked in her eyes at having found a topic to speak of.

"What? But I thought being a doctor was your whole life? You said it was what you wanted to do since you were a kid."

"I wanted to be a lot of things when I was a kid, Videl."

Growing silent, she leaned back in her chair. She placed a comforting hand over her abdomen and stroked it, as if from habit. "…I know what you're thinking," she whispered. "But you have no reason to be spiteful to me."

I gave a soft, bitter laugh and placed my empty coffee cup on the table with a not-so-gentle hand. Videl flinched, making a twinge of hurt strike my heart. Was I scaring her? I sighed and let my shoulders relax. "Why shouldn't I be?" I asked, attempting to make her feel a little less guilty for getting pregnant.

"Because," she began, staring at the table. After taking a deep breath, she looked up at me. "Because I've never made love to Sharpner."

What?

"I didn't. I can't. When he found out I was pregnant from someone else… I had to lie. I couldn't tell him who it was. I didn't want him sending every piece of muscle he controls after your hide, Gohan."

My heart stopped.

_What?_

"She's yours, Gohan. You're the only one who I've ever made love to…" Technically, this was true. I disregarded the fact that she didn't mention my bipolar alter-identity pinning her to her own bed and…

But she didn't know that was me.

"You're going to be a daddy, Gohan. The world believes she's Sharpner's, and he lets them. I was hoping it would make him divorce me, but…" Tears formed in her periwinkle blue eyes. She held her head and bent over the table, feeling the shame wash over her. Instinctively, I leaned forward and cupped her cheeks. She stared at me with those wide, frightened eyes that I'd always known. The hood she wore to mask herself slipped off of her head, eventually allowing people to see her entire face.

People gasped and pointed, amazed at the fact that the very pregnant Videl Pencil was sitting in a run-down coffee shop like this. Ignoring the whispering crowd, I leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. Flashes went off, cell phones clicked. Everyone seemed to get an eyeful of Videl Pencil and a mystery man sharing a peaceful moment in secret.

"Gohan…" Videl whispered when I pulled away. Her eyes were half-lidded, coated with love and passion. I gave her a reassuring smile.

The peace didn't last long.

I covered Videl as the large window to our side shattered. Winds kicked up in the shop, sending glass through the air to penetrate innocent victims' skin and blowing any piece of furniture down, landing on customers and employees alike. People outside were screaming, jumping over dead bodies and splinters of glass, running away from whatever it was that disturbed our kind city. I held Videl close as I jumped through the window into the crowds. I held on to her hand tightly and stopped someone in mid-run.

"What's going on?!" I demanded, even though I knew the answer. The man shook his head and opened his mouth, only managing to scream. He turned and scurried away with the rest of the masses. I met eyes with Videl.

Androids.

"We have to get you out of here," I said quickly. I pulled her along the sidewalk, unable to find my motorcycle. Someone had taken off with it, obviously, so we were stuck scampering on the ground by foot. I searched desperately for a hiding place, knowing that I wouldn't find one. Videl clung to my hand and pressed the other over her abdomen, protecting our baby in vain.

Our baby.

We were soon holding up the rear end of the crowd; a place where anyone knows is a bad place. Before our eyes, #17 drifted in front of us, a sick smile on his perfectly doll-like features. I skidded to a stop, slinging Videl around ungracefully by her arm, turned, and headed in the other direction, only to be blocked by #17's wicked sister. I held Videl close and glared at the blonde demon, occasionally glancing back to her dark-haired brother.

"Oh, well, well look who it is, Eighteen!" #17 announced in a sing-song voice. #18 fazed in front of her brother, her shape fitting his perfectly. I took a step back, keeping Videl close.

"Well, isn't that Gohan? He's all grown up now, and he even has a girlfriend!" Her robotic eyes sparkled in fascination. Videl glared at her evilly before looking up at me.

"Gohan, how do they know who you are?" She asked. The androids laughed.

"Oh, we know everything about Gohan here. He's the son of Goku Son, Piccolo Daimou's student, and The Gold Fighter..."

Videl shook her head in bewilderment and looked up at me. I gave her a pleading look, silently begging her not to believe them. Her confidence returning, she looked back at the androids. "That's impossible! He has black hair, not blonde! And he's not sick and twisted like that bastard Gold Fighter is!" Videl's words stung, but I couldn't help but silently agree. I was sick. I was twisted. I was a bastard.

"Oh, we can prove that he is indeed the 'sick, twisted, bastard Gold Fighter,'" #17 grinned and before she could blink, snatched her away from my grasp. He held her in a headlock, ten feet off the ground. She couldn't even scream. Eighteen appeared in front of her and gave her some "light" punches to the face, but they bruised and bloodied and broke her. "Oh Gooohaaan If you want your girlfriend back, you'll have to come up here and get her!" #17 challenged before breaking into a fit of maniacal laughter. #18 glared at her brother.

"Oh, please, Seventeen, it's not that funny…" But the android's deadpan expression soon turned into excitement when I appeared behind #17 and elbowed him in the back of the head. He dropped Videl, whom I caught before she hit the ground. I carefully put Videl on the ground and she carefully got into a fighting stance.

"Videl, no, you're in no condition to fight. You're eight months pregnant," I whispered. She ignored me. #18 appeared in front of her and, before Videl could react, side-swiped her into the street. Videl twisted her body so she would land on her back. She painfully propped herself up on her elbows and looked up into the artificially beautiful faces of the murderers.

The diabolic duo smirked and simultaneously lifted their arms, palms pointed straight for her. Videl tried to get up, but the pain was overwhelming. She closed her eyes and awaited the release of death.

But death didn't come.

I blocked the attack, effectively protecting my lover. Silently promising to not allow her to be hurt any more, I burst into my Super Saiyan form. It came swiftly and easily, familiar to every pore of my body, like a long lost song that hadn't been sung for years. With a swift movement of my hands, I blasted the two androids just hard enough to stun them for the moment. I turned on my heel, scooped Videl into my arms, and took off for the unknown. Anywhere was better than here.

Realizing her situation, Videl screamed and punched and kicked me, making it every bit as hard to hold on to her as it was to keep myself under control. "No!" she cried, "Stop! Take me back to Gohan! I don't care if those androids kill us- I have to be with him! He can't die alone! Take me back, you monster!" I blocked the insults that pelted me out, attempting to concentrate on the doses of mood-controlling medicine that Bulma's tiny mechanism was pumping into my bloodstream. I began to feel myself slip away…

I shook my head, clearing my mind of the feeling. Videl grabbed my shoulders with surprising strength. I met her eyes once more.

My heart stopped dead cold with hers. Her anger fell to pieces.

"Go-Gohan…" Her eyes filled with tears. "You… You ARE the Gold Fighter…" She shook her head and squirmed against me, trying desperately to push her pregnant body away from my stronghold on her. "No… No!"

"Videl, please…" I begged her. Tears streamed down her cheeks even more so at the sound of my voice.

"No!" Finding some room, she planted a left hook on my cheek. She slipped from my grasp. She fell to the depths of the unknown city. I watched her, frozen. I locked eyes with her for the last time. Gaining control over my body, I rocketed after her, but a black blur knocked me away and held me at bay.

She landed with a sickening _splat_.

My heart crumbled into my stomach. That was it. My life was over. My lover was a frightening murder scene, and her last thoughts were, _I hate you. I hate you so much._

I felt limp as #17 and #18 talked over me. For some reason or another, they decided to leave me there, suspended in midair over the horrifying picture. I dropped like dead weight to the ground, but the part of me that still cared about life twisted my body around and landed on my feet. Numb, I walked up to Videl's corpse. Blood covered the street, along with bits and pieces of her limbs and organs. A crowd gathered around us, crying and screaming in anguish of their heroine's death.

I dropped to my knees and scraped her upper half off the pavement. I cradled her, allowing all of my sorrow fall into her bloody hair. I opened my eyes and looked over her body.

Her face was the only thing that was somewhat recognizable- but that was all it was. Her face. It hung, limp and lifeless, over my arm; no skull to support it, no brain to function behind it. Wet, bloody hair clung to her cheeks, lifeless eyes barely holding into their sockets. Her mouth was open, dripping with blood and missing teeth. Her neck was limp and red, the only thing attaching her head to her chest. I looked down to her bulging stomach, letting out a silent lament for our unborn child. I put my hand over it, expecting nothing but coldness in return.

There it was. A soft bump. The impossibility of life inside a splattered corpse. A miracle. A sign.

Eager to save someone for the first time in a long time, I laid Videl's head back down and concentrated on searching for the baby. I split my lover's stomach open, much to the horror of onlookers. People screamed as I felt around through her organs.

Before long, the loved one I was searching for found me instead. A tiny hand grasped my finger, wanting life. I pulled her out with the gentlest touch.

There she was. A perfect little girl. My perfect little girl. She had silky tufts of black hair atop her head already and the most adorable face and hands and feet. She boasted her mother's nose and mouth and skin and my wild bedhead. I shushed her crying after freeing her from the umbilical cord and wiping the gunk from her face and mouth. She immediately stopped to the sound of my voice. I nuzzled her and sang to her, forgetting about the horrible scene in which she was born and the frightened eyes of whom she was born in front of.

She looked up at me with brilliant brown eyes that matched my own.

In no time, an ambulance and police squad ruined the moment. Sharpner climbed out of one of the sleek, black cars with the tinted windows. Ignoring the words of warning from the policemen, he walked right up to me. I gazed at him, still adorned with my golden hair and green eyes. He shifted his gaze from his unfaithful wife, to his unfaithful wife's tiny child, to his unfaithful wife's tiny child's father.

His best friend.

"Gohan," he whispered so softly so no one but me could hear him. He reached out and placed a hand on the baby's tiny arm. As if I were scorched by fire, I pulled her away from him, but I didn't take my eyes away.

"Is… this proof enough for you?" I asked, soft with my voice. Sharpner tilted his head, fighting the tears.

"Thank you for saving my daughter," he said a little louder. He gently put his hand over her, but didn't pull her away.

My thoughts raced. I could just fly away. I could just keep my little girl forever, never letting her go. My heart was hers forever, and hers was mine. We were attached. We were one.

My little girl looked up at me with those big, loving brown eyes. She clasped her tiny fingers around one of mine, as if reassuring me. I knew it was merely a reflex, but it gave me the strength to hand her to the person who was capable of giving her a perfect, normal life.

I remained in the street as Sharpner's black car sped away with him and my girl in the back seat. He ordered the policemen to leave me be, as thanks for saving his baby. The EMTs scooped what remained of my lovelife, boarded her into the ambulance, and rode without a siren back to the hospital.

The crowds dissipated after getting their pictures of a torn, broken, weak human being- or, as most people saw me, a monster. I stood there for a long time, until finally Trunks floated from the sky. He held my bloody hand, offering some kind of comfort to me.

We stood there for a long, long time, but Trunks was there every moment of the day, and every moment after.

Xx

**To be continued…**

I was listening to **Little Susie by Michael Jackson** the entire time I wrote this chapter.

Please review.

/~drtrunksbriefs


	8. Someone Will Take The Hope I Have Away

Pavisse

Xx

Sharpner's mansion was the biggest I'd ever seen. It stretched over three blocks, giving the King of the World plenty of room to stretch his legs. Of course, he didn't stay in the lovely abode by himself. Being the charitable man he was, he left many of his rooms open for those who were affected by the android attacks, such as destroyed houses or orphaned children. In short, it was much like a tiny town by itself, complete with parks, swimming pools, a theater, restaurants, and many other centers for activity.

Even through the thick, protected walls of the main chamber, I could hear my little girl crying.

It'd been a month since I'd last seen her face, other than television and newspapers (which, unlike before her birth, I avoided like the plague). Walking up to the large double doors, I readied myself for my first calm confrontation with my high school friend since…

Well, I couldn't remember.

He lifted the restraining order, begging for me to come over. "I need your help," he pleaded over the phone, barely audible over the little princess's wails. I couldn't help but feel a little satisfied at his pain; after all, the girl had my lungs. He_ should_ be in pain. I rang the doorbell, listening to it chime and echo throughout the spacious dwelling. Slowly, the door opened, and a maid with a deep frown answered the door. "Come in, please… H-His Majesty needs to see you…" Without waiting for me to enter, the maid scurried away, holding her ears.

The crying only grew louder as I explored deeper into the elegant mansion. "Gohan!" a familiar voice called from the top of a nearby staircase. "Oh, thank God you're here! Come up here!" Hurriedly, I scaled the stairs, holding my head. I could feel my ears vibrating with the screams, only increasing in volume as I followed 'His Majesty' to a good-sized pink bedroom.

She really did have my lungs. I could feel myself getting lightheaded as I walked to the tiny white wooden crib. I couldn't tell if my dizziness was from the merciless high-pitched weeping or from the fact that I was about to meet my baby once more. Placing my hands on the wooden crib, I leaned over slowly and peeked inside.

A small child lay in the miniature mountain of teddy bears, toys, soft pink blankets, and other babyish knickknacks that surrounded her. She had a full head of fluffy black hair and tiny hands that were curled into tiny fists, helping to emphasize that she was, indeed, not a happy camper. Not waiting for Sharpner's permission, I swiftly scooped her out of her crib and rocked her back and forth, shushing her with a soft voice and nuzzling the same way I'd done over my lover's mangled body. Over time, the baby's loud cries dimmed down into mildly frustrated hiccoughs. Big, chocolate brown eyes looked up at me, lips positioned into a serious pout. I suddenly felt all warm and fuzzy inside. It had worked.

Over time, I'd been working on a new ability- one that Dende had tried to teach me long ago, when he and his people were stranded on Earth. It was somewhat of a healing ability, meant to cure wounds, but I lacked the knowledge and training required to actually _heal_. Instead, I took what my little green friend shared with me and warped it until it was my own. Using Trunks and, as guilty as I am, Sharpner and Videl, as my guinea pigs, I was able to sharpen and perfect the ability. However, I could never heal a wound. I could only mask it, taking away the pain it emitted and replacing it with a warmer, gentler comfort. I called it "Empathy."

"What the…? I try that all the time and it never works for me!" Sharpner snapped. I completely ignored his statement.

"What's her name?" I asked softly. Sharpner hesitated for a moment.

"…Pan. Her name is Pan. Videl said once that it was her favorite baby girl name… So, in her honor, her name is Pan Videl Pencil."

I couldn't help but smile. I'd once told Videl that I wanted my first child's name to be Pan. I held my baby closer and sighed, feeling content. I thanked my lover softly, hoping she was happy, wherever she was. Pan squirmed in my arms, a big smile matching mine. I laughed a bit, listening to her giggle cutely.

Knowing that I would soon have to leave my little beauty, pain grew in my heart. Was this punishment? Punishment for all the evil I'd committed in my short life? I watched Pan's happy face, unable to stand the cold hard truth. Pan rightfully belonged to Sharpner. Right?

Right?

"Sharpner…" I began, hesitant. Sharpner leaned in, seemingly more comfortable now that his lovely little princess was no longer upset. He smiled at me, obviously thankful for the selfless deed I'd done for him. I felt guilty. Very, very guilty. "I know Pan isn't really the child between you and Videl." Sharpner's face went cold. All traces of happiness from before completely disappeared. Very guilty. I took a deep breath. "...She's mine."

He had me thrown out, but before the night was over, my guilt was gone. I was consumed by need- selfish, greedy need that involved the innocent girl. I waited until she was alone in her pink baby room, door cracked, nightlight shining with the love of her royal stepfather, yet casting shadows for her lonely, sick, twisted father.

I took her that night. I swiped her gently from her crib. I took nothing else. Only Pan. She was all I needed. She was all I ever needed every moment afterward. She was calm and sweet, watching me with those brown eyes that matched my own, smiling at me with those charming lips that resembled her mother's. She was my little girl. My lovechild. My princess.

Sharpner knew immediately. Not an hour after I'd returned to my new apartment in West City, Pan's disappearance haunted every news channel on television. Drawings of a man with long, spiky black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes was plastered on every billboard, newspaper, store window in every city across the country. A man who was possibly working at a hospital or health center. A man who seemed so much more… gentle than he really was. Me. They were all me.

I chopped my hair off, giving myself the second self-done hackjob I'd ever had. The first time being a young teenager, frightened at the sight of myself in the mirror, back when the face looking back at me was that of my sick, twisted, evil Uncle Raditz.

That was when I realized it. Looking into the mirror that night, I saw Raditz meeting my eyes, laughing. I looked down at the tiny girl in the basket-bed I'd made for her and saw myself. My past self. A small, frightened child, not understanding what was going on, who she was with, or why she was with him. I suddenly felt very sick, unable to hold the contents of my stomach down. Leaning over the toilet, I emptied my endless Saiyan pit until all I could do was dry heave and cry over the seat.

_Hello!_ A tiny, childlike voice whispered in my ear. My heart skipped a beat and I twisted around, frantically searching my little bathroom. _Don't be afraid,_ it whispered, letting a little giggle echo through my ears. I doubled over in pain, holding my head. It suddenly hurt, sending waves of dizziness through my brain once again.

"Who are you?" I choked out, my throat dry and scratchy from pitiless vomiting.

The childlike voice giggled once again, sending waves of pain through my head once more. _I'm your friend. I'm very lonely… just like you. So, shouldn't we be friends?_

"Where are you?" I asked, letting my blurry eyes glance to and fro.

_It's all right, Gohan,_ the voice promised. _Just love her. It will all be okay. Just love her, care for her, and never, ever let her leave you. You are so lonely._

I shook my head and drew my legs up to my chest. What was going on? In no time, a gentle hand pressed against my shoulder. I knew who it was. "Gohan," his soft voice whispered. My heart skipped a beat once more. Who-? I looked up.

Lapis lazuli eyes stared back at me, worried and eternally loving. "Trunks…" I mumbled. He'd grown up more than I'd realized. How could I not notice it? He was no longer the little child who would crawl into my bed at night. His arms and legs were longer, more detailed than the chubby ones quilted with baby fat. Though he was not quite a man, he wasn't a little boy. When had he grown up?

_Protect him,_ the child whispered, quiet now. I pulled Trunks's smaller body into my lap. He didn't hesitate to hold onto me, as if clinging for dear life. "I'm so messed up, Trunks," I mumbled into his soft, purple hair. "I took her."

I often wonder if she'd have had a much better life if I'd never taken her from her warm, soft crib that night. I would get up at night and watch her sleep in the little basket I'd given to her as a makeshift bed, making sure the blankets inside were clean and comfortable. Forever thankful to Bulma and Trunks, I was able to afford her new clothes and a new crib. I got a new job as a teacher at Orange Star High School after Sharpner had expanded his manhunt to other destinations, making a fake birth certificate, showing that my new name was "Majunior Son," imitating that of my late mentor, Piccolo. I made one for my little child, as well, shielding her from her rightful parent by giving her my family name and taking away her middle one.

Despite our living conditions, Pan grew up healthy and happy. By the time she was three, her hair was long and silky, much like that of my mother's- her grandmother's. If only Mom could see her… I think Pan would have been a lot fatter than she was.

Yes, our lives were near perfect. Bulma upgraded the defibrillator in my skull with stronger medicine to hold off my stronger symptoms. The voices- ones which had appeared after the child's voice- were ultimately silenced. I felt normal again.

Until, of course, that fateful day at the fair.

"Tutu! Let's go on the Ferris wheel! Pleeease?" Pan begged, pulling at Trunks's hand eagerly. He smiled and pretended like she was actually a match for him, pretending to be pulled along through the crowd. Pan's little preschool friend, Addy, followed along, giving 'Tutu' a big smile of her own.

"Come on, Pan, how many times have I told you not to call me that?" he scolded, redness creeping across his face. He looked back at me, looking for permission. Seeing no harm, I nodded.

If only I could go back in time. I would have never said yes.

I watched as Trunks and the two little preschoolers climbed into a carriage and closed the doors. I watched as Pan sat on her knees and waved to me as the Ferris wheel turned, not letting any sort of foreshadowing effect shine through its innocent façade. I watched as Pan and her little friend clung to Trunks's protective arms as their carriage reached the top of the wheel. It stopped. I remember laughing, being able to only imagine Pan's face as she looked out over the side, seeing the giant fairground below her.

The next thing I knew, the Ferris wheel went up in flames. Pan's frightened screams engulfed my ears. She was all I could hear.

I burst into Super Saiyan and rocketed to the top of the wheel. There I found Trunks holding a bleeding child in his arms, the other side of his carriage engulfed in fire and smoke. He patted her tiny body, stopping the android inferno from crawling any farther across her flesh. "I'm sorry," he mouthed. I couldn't hear him. I ripped my little girl from his arms and blasted off to the first place I always ran to for help.

Capsule Corporation.

I now wish I'd gone back for the other little girl. After realizing my latest failure as Earth's guardian, I couldn't help but feel worthless. I let that sweet little child die there. Alone. Scared. Burning to death.

As I cried over Pan's burnt body, I cried for little Addy, too.

"Pan's a strong girl," Bulma told me after things had calmed down. "I'm proud of her. After all, it takes a true Son to survive the loss of a limb; especially a leg. And at such a young age, too… She's really something, Gohan. You need to be thankful."

Pan was strong, but she was never the same. It took a long time for her to grow accustomed to her new robotic limb, courtesy of my favorite scientific genius. She became clingy and frightened of everything that moved, much like I was when I was her age. She hugged my leg like a lifeline and cried when I was away, going into hysterics and scaring her classmates and teachers. I was often called out of my classroom to comfort her. My students eventually saw it as an everyday thing.

It was always at two o'clock. Every day at two o'clock I could expect a call from Orange Star Elementary, telling me that my little girl needed me again.

I guess that was how traumatized children acted.

As she grew older, however, her hysteria calmed. I was called out of class less and less until it finally got to the point where I was surprised to hear my phone ring, telling me to arrive at the elementary school to comfort her, but it was only after she was old enough to realize that she would indeed see me again. Every day after my lessons I would ride my motorcycle meant for one to Pan's school to pick her up. She seemed to finally be getting better, growing happier, despite her missing limb.

Then, one day, Pan found a new thing to be afraid of.

Xx

**To be continued…**

Please review.

/~drtrunksbriefs


	9. But You Gotta Give It Up

Pavisse

Xx

I waited outside of Pan's school house patiently, as I did every afternoon. Leaning against my bike, I attempted to ignore the two ladies that giggled behind my back, whispering things to each other about "that hunk." Their attempts to be discreet failed. I could hear every word they said.

"Look at that butt!" one lady whispered.

"And what beautiful hair…" the other gushed.

"And those muscles! My oh my…"

I really wished the bell would ring sooner.

As if on cue, the elementary school bell tolled, signaling the end of the school day. Relieved, I attempted to cool my flushed face. I didn't need my innocent little girl teasing me as well (something she seemed to enjoy doing. Damn you, Trunks. It's your fault. Why are you teaching her these things? Do you think I'd ever tease my father? My mother would smack me with a frying pan if I had. You lucky little S.O.B.)

The other children had left long after the bell rang. Getting worried, I left my bike and entered the school, searching for Pan's energy signal. It wasn't difficult to find; after all, she _was_ the only quarter Saiyan on the planet. I merely had to look for a signal that was different. Opening the door to her Kindergarten classroom, I found her sitting in a tiny little desk with her name on it. In front of her sat the teacher, Miss Lime.

Slowly, Pan looked up at me, eyes large and watery. In no time I was by her side, holding and cradling her like a baby. She sobbed miserably into my jacket, unable to contain her chokes or regulate her breathing. Miss Lime looked on in pity, a deep from set upon her face. I met her peridot-colored eyes, silently asking if she'd had another episode. It seemed off, however. She'd never had an episode so late in the day.

I held her until she'd calmed down, wails of grief turning into soft hiccoughs, just like the day I'd met her in Sharpner's mansion. I suddenly realized how small and frail she used to be. She was growing up quickly, just like Trunks had. Her arms and legs were getting thicker; stronger. As Bulma'd promised, her prosthetic leg grew and developed in sync with her real one. Her hair- which had been burnt off in the accident- was growing back, giving her a cute, girlish bob. In an effort to gain her attention, I stroked her hair back. As expected, she looked up at me with those big brown eyes that matched my own.

"Panny…" I called softly; gently, "tell me what happened."

Her eyebrows knitted together and her lips formed a tight frown at just the thought. She clenched her eyes shut, readying herself for the explanation. "I was minding my own business in class, drawing a picture of you, me, Tutu, and Ma…"

Xx

_Pan sat in her seat, enjoying her new crayons. Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, brown, and black- she'd set them all up in order. Neatly, too, so they wouldn't roll off her desk and cause her to delay on her drawing. "Tutu has blue eyes… so does Ma… hm. Daddy and I have browns. I think. Miss Lime!" Pan raised her hand, waving it in an attempt to get the teacher's attention. Because Pan's voice was so distinctive (and called on her often during lectures), Miss Lime didn't even have to turn to see who it was who needed her._

"_Yes, Miss Pan?" she answered softly as she wrote the day's letter on the board. Letter A._

"_What color are my eyes?" Pan asked, using her desk to pull herself up so the teacher could see. Miss Lime turned around with a smile, put the chalk back on the stand, and wiped her hands off on her jeans._

"_Well let's take a look, shall we? Hmm…" Miss Lime bent down on one knee and held Pan's face, playfully and animatedly turning her head from one side to the other, as if she was having trouble deciding. The over-concentrated look on her teacher's face made Pan giggle, but the smile was quickly taken away by another Kindergartener._

"_Hey, Pan! You're so weird, even the teacher can't figure out what's wrong with you!" His comment made the whole class erupt with laughter. Immediately, Miss Lime released her hold on the girl's face and stood, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed with shame._

"_That's not nice! Everyone, playtime is over! Get back in your desks! You should all be ashamed of yourselves."_

_The students, muttering angrily and sending evil glares in Pan's direction, filed back into their seats and sat with a brooding silence. _Stupid robot girl. She ruined the fun for all of them, and now Miss Lime- the nicest teacher on campus- was angry at them for just having a little fun. _These were only some of the growls Pan allowed herself to hear. She held her head in disgrace, only allowing herself to see the half-done picture she'd been working on. She was the only one without eyes._

_After the lecture about the letter A, Miss Lime needed to run an errand. Telling the class to be good and to be quiet, she stepped outside, asked the neighboring teacher to keep an eye on her students, and disappeared down the hall. Silently, Pan begged Miss Lime with her eyes not to leave, but Miss Lime wasn't there to see it._

"_Hey," whispered a girl nearby. Slowly, Pan looked up from her drawing. "Hey, girl," she whispered again. Pan looked at her. "Listen, I heard about you. About your leg." Pan couldn't think of anything to say._

"_Hey, she's talkin' to you, girl," said another child. Pan looked back down to her drawing. How she wished she could have gone back in time and never called so much attention on herself. Maybe her eyes were blue, like Tutu's. Or maybe they were green, like Miss Lime's. Or maybe they were…_

_What color were her mommy's eyes, anyway?_

"_Can I see it?" the previous girl asked. Pan chewed on her lip, a habit she got from her father. Slowly, she shook her head in the negative. The girl gasped. "So you DO have a robot leg! Come on, let me see it!" She reached over and pressed her hand against Pan's stocking, then shivered. "It's so cold!" the girl whispered loudly. Pan felt heat push up from her chest and into her throat._

_It was true that her leg was often cold. Because it was metal, it didn't emit heat. This often made the rest of Pan cold, so her father made sure to dress her up nice and snug in warm clothing, even in the summer time. "Let us see your leg!" a pair of twins whispered from the back of the room, trying not to be too loud and gain the neighboring teacher's attention from across the hall. _

_Wanting peace, Pan lifted the end of her little green dress and gripped the top of her black stocking. She watched the door intently, begging for Miss Lime to return before she had to show off her prosthetic. _Come back. Please come back.

_Slowly, feeling every childish pair of eyes on her, she pulled the stocking down. Students caught their breath in their throats at the sight of the scars and burns trailing Pan's right thigh. Every child in the room watched as the stocking inched farther and farther down her leg._

_The class shrieked in horror and ran to the opposite side of the classroom from Pan's desk. The neighboring teacher was in the room immediately, as were a few other teachers nearby. Pan sat in complete horror, her stocking at her mechanical ankle. Even the teachers stared in shock and disgust at the deformed little girl._

_The Kindergarteners regained their voices and immediately began to pelt Pan with questions._

"_What happened to your leg?"_

"_Were you born without it?"_

"_Did it get ripped off or something?"_

"_Where did you get that fake one?"_

"_Is the fake one hooked up to your brain?"_

"_Hah, she's like a cyborg or something!"_

"_No, wait!" one student stepped forward and shoved her finger in Pan's face. "She's an _android!_"_

_The students exploded into shrieks of laughter. Tears pushed over Pan's cheeks, soaking her drawing. Another student joined the previous child at Pan's side, took her pencil, and began to finish the drawing on her desk. "Look! Here's the robot girl! These must be her victims," he summarized as he scribbled on the little piece of paper. He added her mechanical leg and changed Tutu's, Ma's, and even her own father's smiling faces into horrified frowns. Pan looked up at the teachers helplessly, but they couldn't seem to find their right minds. They stared on in fear, silently wondering if they should stop the tirade or not. Was she really an android? What _was_ she?_

_The tragedy didn't end until Miss Lime returned from her errand. She pushed the teachers out of the room, all the while staring them down evilly. "How dare you not stop this? How dare you? What kind of human being are you? Monsters!" The teachers hung their heads in shame._

_Miss Lime finally regained order of the classroom, but as soon as she did, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. The children were gone in a flash, completely forgetting about the poor child they were torturing. Miss Lime knelt down by Pan's desk and pressed a gentle hand to her back, but Pan didn't respond. Carefully, she pulled the girl's stocking up to her mechanical knee, but Pan didn't respond._

"_Pan?" Miss Lime whispered gently, "Pan, are you alright?" Pan didn't respond. She merely stared down at her ruined drawing. At her loved ones' terrified faces. At her messily scribbled in robotic leg. At her father. Did her daddy think she was an android, too?_

_Pan pressed her head onto the desk, eyes wide. Did he?_

Xx

I held Pan as she cried into my chest, dismayed at the little girl's doubts about my love for her. I looked at the messy paper on her desk, screaming proof of how cruel children could be. I held my daughter tighter. Without a word, I grabbed her pencil and erased all but the little Pan figure. I erased her chaotically drawn leg and replaced it with a sleeker, more beautiful version, then added three figures that resembled Bulma, Trunks, and myself. The little figures were on their knees, hugging a smiling Pan figure with big smiles of their own. I added hearts above their heads for added effect. Slowly, Pan turned and watched as I scribbled in, "We love you."

"Nothing can hurt you as long as we are here to defend you," I whispered softly to her. I pressed my hand to the back of her head and kissed her forehead, working my Empathy on her. In no time, a small smile crossed her lips.

"I love you, too, Daddy, no matter what."

Xx

After we walked out of the school with Pan holding on to the drawing for dear life, I buckled her helmet onto her head and plopped her down onto the seat of my motorcycle. I got on behind her, slid my own helmet on, and in no time we were off to West City, ready to hear Bulma tell us about the brand new invention she'd just finished.

A time machine.

The possibilities were endless. Where could we go? What could we change? Our future has become a bitter trainwreck. There is really nothing left for us here. Our civilization is struggling to survive, and life as we know it is coming to an end. The androids can and will destroy everything. They will kill everyone. They do not sleep. They do not tire. They do not feel. We need to change this, and with Bulma's time machine, we can. We will change it.

We will return to the past, to the moment where the world changed. To when my father returned to Earth after a long, hard battle with Freeza. Trunks and I will return there, warn our friends about the androids, and return to a future that will hopefully be better than it was meant to be. However, risks lurk every corner. What if they fail? What if our efforts are in vain?

What if they succeed? If they do so, we run the risk of Pan never being born. Of Trunks never being born. What would change, with just a little warning from strangers? Should we do more than warn them? Should we tell them what we want to keep the same and what we want to change? Should we tell them who we _are_?

Now in my study at home, I look at my little sleeping daughter and feel my heart wrench with pain. I can't lose her. I can never, ever lose her. I need her. I need someone to need me, too. I hold her with a selfish kind of love. I deny her the luxury of living with her rightful parent; of having a peaceful life in the Pencil mansion.

Yes, it's true that I believe I'm weaker than I used to be. I wear my heart out on my sleeve and I forget the rest of me. Yes, there's times I've been afraid, and there's no harm in that I pray, 'cause I'm more frightened every day that someone will take the hope I have away.

But, if all else fails, if I die and the future is never changed, let these be my last words, written upon this scrappy spiral notebook, left over from the best years of my life.

Sharpner, Videl, Erasa… I miss all of you.

Sharpner, you were my best friend.

Videl, you were the love of my life.

Trunks, you're the best brother anyone could ever ask for.

Bulma, I could never find anything better than the love and care you've so generously given me.

And Pan, my little girl, you are strong. You are light. If I die, please remember that I haven't left you. I'm always here. I'm always protecting you. I love you. You are my life.

Hush my love, now don't you cry. Everything will be all right. Close your eyes and drift in dream. Rest in peaceful sleep. If there's one thing I hope I've shown you: just give love to all. Oh, my love in my arms tight, everyday you give me life. I wish I could drift to your world. And if there's one thing you've showed me, it's to just give love to all.

I am running out of pages in this notebook, so allow me to end this tragedy.

I love you, Pan. I love you, Trunks. I love you, Bulma.

I am your Pavisse.

Love, Gohan.

Xx

Thanks for reading. If you want to find out what happens next, feel free to read _Impasse_, located on my page.

/~drtrunksbriefs


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